The Art Of Seduction
by CartmanFan
Summary: Gregory is waking up, felling rather frisky. Christophe, however, seems oblivious to the fact that his boyfriend is horny as hell. Gregory then decides to seduce Christophe. Takes place during 1 day. Multi-chap. Yaoi and a lemon later on. Rated M.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Allright, so this'll be my first multi-chaptered fic. Yay! It takes place during one day, and there _will_ be a lemon eventually. I'll update pretty fast, I think (and hope), and in no way will I update as slow as I did when I wrote Grounded. Sooo... here it is!**

**Please also bear in mind that english is not my first language, and I apologize if I have overlooked any grammatical errors.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own South Park. All rights goes to Matt Stone and Trey Parker. Though if I did I'd be freakin' STOKED.**

**Enjoy!**

**The Art Of Seduction**

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I wake up as usual before the alarm clock rings, and as always, I turn it off before snuggling into my duvet once again, relishing in the feeling of beeing surrounded by warmth and softness. I love this moment every morning. Where I can just relax and think about everything and nothing. However, this morning is completely different. The time that's showing itself on the clock is the same, and so is the room and the sleeping, handsome frenchman next to me. The only thing different is a tingling sensation in the pit of my stomach, and it's a little too overwhelming to ignore. I know this feeling, however. I've had it many times before. I think everybody would if their partner was Christophe DeLorne. But I've never had this feeling in the morning. I'm usually feeling a little spent from the night before, if you know what I mean. But not today. The only question is why?

Oh. Now I remember. The little 'episode', if you even can call it that, from last night.

"_Christophe, please stop," I begged with a whining voice. "I'm too tired."_

_That didn't seem to scare my lover away. Not at all. He just lifted my duvet up so that it covered us both, and snuggled close to me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and I could feel the heat of his breath as he started to kiss the backside of my neck, in an attempt to get me to change my mind. But he wasn't gonna win this one. I'd had a hard day, and I was God damn tired! Normally, I'd already be in the mood for some dirty fun, but I just couldn't find the energy tonight, and he'd better respect that!_

"_Christophe, I mean it," I said, my whining tone from before being replaced by a sterner one. "Not tonight."_

_That seemed to work. He finally backed off, and I could hear him step out of the bed and head for the bathroom. I knew what he was going to do. Christophe's always had a high sex drive, and normally I don't complain. We usually have sex about 2 times a day on average, but often more. Today had just been a real exhausting day for me, and so none of us had gotten any sort of release today. I knew he had been frustrated the whole day, and I felt a slight pang of guilt. I quickly pushed the feeling away. Just because we were a couple didn't mean I was going to put out whenever he wanted, dammit! It was my body, after all._

_I closed my eyes and fell to sleep to the sounds of my sexually frustrated lover giving himself a much needed release in our bathroom. Just before I drifted off into dreamland I remember having the thought that one single day without sex wouldn't do him any harm._

Huh. Isn't that ironic? I deny _him_ sex, yet it's _me_ feeling incredibly horny. I look down and see that I'm also pitching a tent. Great.

I turn to my side to look at Christophe. He's sleeping only in boxers as usual. Furthermore, his duvet only covers the most strategic place, and so it basically looks like he's lying fully naked. Unable to control my gaze, it wanders down my French sex-gods body. I can feel my dick twich as I greedily eye up his strong arms and broad shoulders, his muscular chest and his well defined abdominal muscles. I feel a strong urge to kiss every inch of his taut, tanned flesh. He looks so fucking _good_, like he's _inviting_ me to get on top of him, and that fact isn't exactly helping the boner I'm currently sporting.

Just as I'm thinking about taking matter into my own hands and solve my little 'problem' myself, he starts moving around a bit. He grunts quietly, then flips over so that we're laying face to face. He slowly opens his eyes to look at me, his deep, brown gaze penetrating my own blue one. He smiles at me, and I can't help but to feel relieved that he's not angry with me for denying him sex last night.

"Good morneeng, _mon cheri,_" he says, caressing my arm gently. The feeling of his fingers lightly brushing my sensitive skin, and the fact that I'm currently ready to blow my load if the wind caressed me in just the right way, is making me shudder, and I can feel goosebumps forming on my skin. I'm getting way too excited by this, I mean, he barely touching me, but I can practically feel the blood rush through my veins at an incredible speed. I'm just praying to God that he doesn't discover my now full-blown erection.

To both my relief and disappointment he moves away from me and gets out of bed, and I decide to follow suit. I really need to brush my teeth and take a shower. Maybe that can get my mind off of troublesome 'Little Gregory'.

When I enter the bathroom, Christophe's already there, getting undressed. I can't help but to sneak-peak at him as he does so, and I eye him hungrily as he steps into the shower and turns the water on. I feel my cock throb at the thought of all the naughty things we could do in that shower. The thought of him all wet and soaped in is making my heart pound. As ashamed as am to admit it, I might as well realize that I need him to fuck me. I'm feeling a little embarrassed that I can't go without sex for one damn day without becoming as wanton as Kenny himself.

But feeling embarrassed won't help me now. I'll just have to drop some subtle hints to Christophe, so he knows what I want. I'll seduce him, that's what I'll do.

While I'm making this decision, Christophe steps out of the shower again. He dries himself off and puts a white towel around waist. He sends me a grin before leaving the bathroom.

Stepping into the shower, I sigh lowly at the feeling of hot water on my skin. So, I'm gonna seduce Christophe, eh? That actually sounds like a good plan. Only... I have absolutely no idea on how to seduce someone! Coming to think of it, it's always Christophe seducing _me_, not the other way around. And I can't even just go and do the same things that he does, due to our different sexual natures. It would look weird if the little uke pushed his big, muscular seme up against the wall and made him moan and beg, wouldn't it?

Well, I _could_ walk around naked when I get out of the shower. That's a pretty good start, isn't it? Yes, it is. I turn off the water and step out of the shower. I dry myself off and toss the towel to the side, leaving the bathroom.

On my way back to our room, I luckily run into Christophe, who is already dressed. He stops and eyes me for a second, and I really hope that this is all it takes for him to carry me into the bedroom and ravish me. Or just here in the hallway would be fine as well. Up against the wall...

It looks like this is it! He leans forward...

"I zeenk you should 'urry up and get some clozes on before you catch a cold, _mon amour,"_ he says, giving me a quick peck on the lips before heading to the kitchen.

Dammit.

When I enter the bedroom once again, I decide to take my frustration out on my matress. I punch it like a sandbag as hard as I possibly can. I abuse it for several minutes before I notice that the old lady in the apartment building next to ours is standing in the window, looking at me in shock. What the hell is she staring at? Has she never seen a fully naked, sexually frustrated Brit taking out his anger on his bedroom furniture? Forgetting all my manners, I flip her off in a way that would have made Craig proud of me, and growling I draw the curtains closed to protect my naked form from further staring from curious neighbours. I suddenly realize that I'm freezing. It would be a good time to get dressed, I think.

After getting dressed, I join Christophe in the kitchen. He's eating omelet and drinking black coffee, his eyes currently focused on the newspaper in front of him. Alright, then. I've heard that kitchen sex should be good fun.

As I'm preparing my breakfast, I try as hard as I can to get Christophe to notice that I'm in heat. Looking for a plate and a tea-cup, I bend over as much as I can, strutting with my bottom as much as my spine will allow me. Sadly, my french lover seems to be completely oblivious to me egging him on, and just continues to eat his breakfast and read his newspaper.

Disappointed once again, I sit down at the table in front of Christophe. As I'm eating my cornflakes and fresh fruit, my eyes fixate on Christophe's hands as he eats and turns the sides in his newspaper. I'm absolutely enchanted by them.

I've always liked Christophe's hands. They're big, strong and calloused. Nice, masculine hands. But today is not like any other day. Right now I'm not just liking the sight of his hands, I'm getting directly turned on by it. Oh great, so now I've got a hand-fetish too? I can't help myself, though. Just the mere thought of all the things he could do to me with those hands...

"I zeenk I'd better be goeeng, Gregory," he says, standing up. I suppress a groan of disappointment. I blew my chance. He's not gonna get back before tonight, and tonight just seems like a million years from now. In the state I'm in it does, anyway.

"Allright, darling," I say, trying to sound as cheerful as always. I follow him to the door so that I can lock it after him.

"See you tonight," he says, kissing my lips softly. I try to suppress a moan at the contact I've been needing so badly the whole morning. But, just as quick as the kiss began, it stops again, and he's gone. Life's a bitch sometimes, wouldn't you agree?

As I walk back into the empty apartment, I know something needs to be done. Something drastic. I sit down on the couch, and think intensely for a couple of minutes. I search every single little nook and corner of my brain. Then I can feel a small smirk slowly forming on my lips.

_You just wait until you get home, Christophe DeLorne,_ I think. _Cause tonight the tables will be turned. Tonight you'll be the one getting seduced, whether you like it or not!_

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**A/N: So what do you think? Was it good or was it crap, and would you like me to continue? Thank you so much for reading. And please review. Reviews make me sooo happy.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So, here's chapter 2. I hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or any of it's characters. Everything belongs to Matt Stone and Trey Parker. I also do not own Mickey Mouse, nor Jim Carrey.**

**English is not my first language, and I therefore apologize for any spelling errors.**

**Enjoy!

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**

After having made the decision that I'm gonna seduce a certain frenchman tonight, I came forward to the conclusion that I still didn't have any idea about how I was gonna do it. And that is the exact reason why I'm currently seated on the couch with my laptop. I'm gonna do some serious seduction research.

But it's slightly harder than I first thought. It's a freaking jungle! "Seduce your man", "5 ways to improve your blowjob-technique" and "How to look good in rubber" are just a few of the things I've stumbled across during the morning. One of my personal favorites was an article called "How to make sex funny". It involved a Mickey Mouse-condom, a genital piercing formed the shape of a nose, and Jim Carrey. Who would have known?

But so far, I've come up with absolutely nothing, and I'm gradually panicking more and more as the time goes by. There's plenty of time until Christophe gets home, but that's not what I'm worrying about. I just know that I'll need some time to mentally prepare myself before it goes down. And if things keep going like they do, my plan is gonna go right out the window. I wouldn't like that. But what am I gonna do?

God, why does this have to be so hard, anyway? Everybody else I know are freaking seduction-_experts._ Kyle and Cartman have a pretty rockin' sex-life, as far as I've heard. And experienced. I swear, those two can't even be in the same room for more than one moment, before they start molesting eachother, and in public, too. Like that one time at Token's party, where little, unknowing me was feeling a strong need to urinate, and I, gullible as I sometimes can be when intoxicated, saw nothing wrong with heading for the bathroom. And what sight do you think awaited the innocent and slightly tipsy Gregory as I opened the unlocked bathroom door, other than a naked, slender jew receiving steamy buttsex from his big, muscular Nazi partner? I didn't even know you could faint _that_ fast. You learn something new every day, huh?

Allright, I'll admit that I don't have any problems with Christophe not violating me in a friends bathroom while attending said friends party. Not with the door unlocked, anyway. I'm just saying that I'm feeling sexually retarded. I mean, even Butters can do this thing, for Christ's sake! And it's not like it's usually him being the seductive partner. Kenny told me so himself just the other day...

Wait a minute. _Kenny!_ Why the hell didn't I think of that before? Kenny is theexpert over experts. He's like the All Knowing Sexual Guru. _And_, as things are now, hopefully he'll be able to save my ass. Or doom it, whatever works best.

The phone rings seven times. Then he finally answers it, and I breathe a deep sigh of relief.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Kenny, it's Gregory," I begin.

"Gregory, hey! What's up?"

"Well, to be honest, I have a small problem, and I need your help," I tell him, while my brain is working at its top-speed to figure out how I'm gonna spill it to him.

"Sure, you know I'm glad to help where I can! What's the problem?"

Okay, here it goes.

"Well, Kenny, actually I woke up this morning feeling rather..." Out of old habit when facing a situation where crude terms is practically impossible to avoid, I pause, trying to find the right word for the feeling still burning in my stomach without saying something offensive. Of course that's before I remember that it's Kenny I'm talking to. He'd be the last person on Earth to get offended by anything sexual.

"Rather what, Greg? Hungry? Tired? Cause I know that if I don't get at least twelve hours of sleep, I'm totally fucked..."

"No, it's not that, Kenny. Actually, I woke up and felt rather horny."

I can hear him snicker and wolf-whistle on the other end.

"Dude, I can totally understand where you're coming from. If I woke up next to a hunk like Christophe every morning, I swear to God, he would never have a moment of peace. So, did you get dirty?"

"Well, actually-"

"Did you fuck like rabbits?"

"No, we-"

"Did he squirt sticky man-juice all over your-"

"Kenny! We didn't do anything! That's the problem!" I can feel my cheeks burn. Both because of embarrassment due to Kenny and his dirty thoughts, but also because of the slight feeling of arousal his words have provoked. God knows that I want nothing more at the moment than for Christophe to magically appear in front of me, and take me on the coffee-table while I'm wearing nothing but a pair of bunny-ears... Wait, what?

"You... didn't do... anything?" He asks, sounding very disappointed.

"No, we didn't," I say, hoping now that _that's_ out of the way, we can try to think up some kind of solution.

No such luck.

"Not even just a little bit of cock-sucking? Just a little?"

"No, Kenny, I told you-"

"Some teensy-weensy anal penetration?"

"No! The whole point is that-"

"What about groping? There was some groping goin' on, am I right?"

"No, Kenny, for the last time, there was no such thing going on! All he did was to kiss me!"

Silence.

"...With tongue?"

"No, Kenny, no tongue at all! It was just a quick peck on the lips, and that's it! That's the reason why I'm calling you, it's because I'm feeling so frustrated at the moment that I'm bloody well about to explode!"

"Heh... 'Explode'."

"Kenny, be serious, please! I need your help on this one."

"Sure, sorry," he says, clearing his throat. "Why didn't you try to get his attention or something? I'm sure that would've worked."

"But I did," I whimper. "I even walked around naked in the house, but all he said to me was that I should get some clothes on so I wouldn't catch a cold!"

"Wow, that fucking sucks, dude," he agrees, and I feel a little better now that I have an ally.

"Yes, but I've decided that I'm gonna seduce him when he comes home tonight. The only problem is that I've never done such a thing and has no clue about what to do. I'm totally lost."

"And so you've turned to the Ken-meister for help," he chuckles, and I roll my eyes.

"Yes, so do you have any advice?" I ask him, knowing perfectly well that he has lots and lots of advice to give, but not all of them are suitable for normal human beings.

"Well," he begins slowly, sounding like he's in deep thought. "If I we're you, I'd maybe spice things up a little, if you know what I mean. Like, get some sex-toys or somethin', maybe a costume or two if you guys are into that, and just see where it takes you."

That actually sounds quite reasonable. For the first time this morning, I'm filled up with another feeling than lechery. I'm forever thankful to my blonde, constantly horny pal.

"Thanks, Kenny. I owe you one."

"Don't say that," he chuckles. "You might come to regret it." I can almost see him wiggle his eyebrows as he drops that line, but I'm still so high on thankfulness that I just laugh.

"I probably will. See you, Kenny."

"Sure thing, dude. See ya."

As I hang up, I feel that I may just burst from pure excitement. This is gonna be great! I perform a spontaneous victory-dance around the living room for several minutes, before yet another obstacle pops into my mind; other than lube, which isn't even _in_ the category, we are not in possesion of anything _close_ to sex-toys.

Shit.

I dump down onto the couch and massage my temples with my fingertips. That's it; I'm defeated. There goes my plans down the freaking toilet. What am I gonna do?

_Think, Gregory, think. You have a good head, now use it._

Then I can practically see the light bulb appearing above my head. Why didn't I think of that before? For someone who went to Yardale and had a 4.0 grade point average, I can be incredibly stupid. Why didn't I think of that obvious possibility before?

_The sex-shop down at the mall._

_

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_**A/N: I actually had tons of fun writing this chapter. I'm thinking about making a story that takes place at the party at Token's that Gregory described. **

**Did you like the story? Please please please review, and thanks for reading! =D**


	3. Chapter 3

**Holy crap, it's been a long time. I'm soo sorry if I have kept you waiting, but some shit has been going on. But it's all over now, and I have a feeling that I'll be spitting out the next chapters. ****This chapter deals with Gregory being pushed out of his comfort zone in the sex-shop. BTW, next chapter = LEMON! **

**Please keep in mind that english is not my native language. I therefore apologize for any spelling errors.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or any of it's characters. Everything belongs to Matt Stone and Trey Parker. I don't own The Breakfast Club, either. I only own the words written here.**

**Enjoy!**

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Standing in front of the infamous shop of sin, I'm not so sure whether I like this idea so much after all. I'm beginning to have second thoughts. Well, to be completely honest with you, I've been arguing silently with myself for a total of fifteen minutes. I can only imagine what that family of four at the ice cream-stand is thinking… Who in their right mind would put an ice cream-stand right next to a sex-shop, by the way?

But that's beside the point. The core of the problem is that I've been close to turning around on my heels and leave about 13 times. Am I really that much of a coward? I know that between me and him, Christophe is always thought of as the 'man' in the relationship by our friends, but come on! I may not be as tall as him, I may not be as muscular as him, nor do I have his devilish charms, his rugged, chiseled face, his amazingly sexy bottom… Ahem, what I mean to say is that in spite of me lacking most of all those primitive traits considered masculine, I am still somewhat of a man, damn it! And as it just so happens, I have some very manly needs that I need taken care of.

Without further ado, and with the adrenaline pumping through my body, I walk right through the gate of debauchery, while a certain line from that 80's teen-flick I can never seem to remember the name of (why did I watch that thing anyway?) echoes in my mind.

_Bein' bad feels pretty good, huh?_

So far, so good. I'm in. And I have got to say; so far it doesn't look all that dangerous. The shop might be a little flamboyantly decorated with its pink walls and purple carpets – is that a love rug? Oh dear, it is – but it's not as intimidating as I had thought it would be. Of course, I've just gotten through the door, but a gentleman is always optimistic, which is something I often try to teach Christophe. Without any luck at all, mind you; it – more often than not – results in him calling me every derogatory name in the book for a homosexual male, all the while insulting my nationality as well. Maybe I'll just have to realize that Christophe simply isn't a gentleman. He's just way too gruff, driven by instinct, animalistic to the very bone… He just takes what he wants, without bothering to get any sort of permission first… Oh my, this 'no sex' thing is really getting to me, isn't it?

I guess I should have a look at what this place has to offer. I walk over to the shelf closest to the door. Love dices, sexy card games… I furrow my eyebrows. It's a little too, how should I put it…? Well, boring.

Please don't get me wrong, Christophe is not going to be welcomed home by the sight of me in a black latex-outfit (not this time, at least). I would never agree to let anyone send electricity through my testicles either, not even Christophe. I don't want anything _that_ kinky. Hell, I doubt even Kenny would agree to that electricity-thing. But, come on, _card games?_ Even _I _am not _that_ vanilla.

So I walk over to the next shelf, behind the first. The store is designed in such a way that the shelves all stand in the center of the room, with the 'vanilla-stuff' closest to the door and windows, and (apparently) the really kinky, hardcore stuff standing in the back of the store, furthest away from the windows, so that you're protected from curious (and quite possibly judging) stares.

Okay, on this shelf they've clearly spiced things up a little, but not much. Sure, massage oil with vanilla flavor sounds really nice, but it's just not enough. I want something more –

"Goddammit Kyle, you've been in there _forever!_ Come out already!"

"There's no way in hell I'm wearing this, fatass!" Wait a minute, I know these voices! I peek around the corner of the shelf, where I have a nice view of the dressing rooms in the back left corner. I can see a big, sturdy figure with messy, brown hair tapping his foot impatiently.

"You fucking Jew, don't make me come in there!" He barks out, grabbing the side of the curtain threateningly. Oh yes, that's definitely Eric Cartman. And so I naturally deduce that the person on the other side of the curtain is Kyle Broflovski. 4.0 grade point average, remember?

Kyle sighs overly dramatic on the other side of the curtain, sounding defeated.

"Fine," he grumbles. "But if you laugh I swear to God…"

"I'm not gonna laugh, Jew," Cartman interrupts, his voice serious. Well, this has piqued my curiosity. Normally, as the gentleman I am, I would turn around and walk away, and leave them to finish whatever their business might be, in peace. But I'm not quite myself today. I'm in a sex shop, for God's sake! I think I can afford to break one more unwritten gentleman-rule.

"I'm coming out now!" Kyle suddenly says from behind the curtain.

"_Finally," _Cartman sighs, sounding relieved.

Then, the curtain is pulled aside. I stretch my neck as far as I possibly can without getting caught, but to no avail. I can't see anything. Cartman is standing in the way. But luckily, he takes a step back to admire the sight of his Jew. And now I can see Kyle, too.

My eyes widen.

Oh my.

Kyle in a maid costume. I didn't see that coming. I am no imbecile, I was perfectly aware of the fact that him being in a dressing room (here of all places) had something to do with… Ahem, _clothes._ But a _maid _costume?

Not that it looks bad on him. Oh no, Kyle can definitely pull that thing off. The black corsage top with white laces clings tightly to his slender torso, and as he turns around on Cartman's command, I can see that the frilly skirt just barely covers his nice, firm bottom. Furthermore, he's wearing knee-high black socks with white bows.

"Looks good on you, Kyle," Cartman says with the most sincere and honest voice I've ever heard from him, earning a shy smile from Kyle whose cheeks is turning slightly pink.

"Well, thanks."

Cartman takes a step towards Kyle, and I can only barely make out what he then says to him.

"How about I help you getting out of it again," he growls. Oh. Now, this is interesting!

"Be my guest," Kyle challenges lowly. Cartman quickly looks around to make sure nobody's looking. Then he pushes Kyle back inside the dressing room, and pulls the curtain closed.

My eyes are just about to fall out of their sockets as my currently mushy brain tries to comprehend what exactly just happened.

_Wha..! Wait a minute… Did they just… They couldn't possibly… Oh dear, they did!_

They don't care about making out in public. Fine, I'll live. But this is taking things to the highest level of inappropriate. At least it is in my eyes. On the other hand, I surely don't think I would mind it one bit if Christophe would ever take the initiative to such a thing. Actually, coming to think of it, I think I would truly enjoy it. There's the thrill at the possibility of getting caught. And there are the mirrors, of course. To be able to see every little thing he does to me, to be able to see the way he pounds into me fast and hard, covering my mouth with his hand to prevent me from making any noise as he fucks me mercilessly…

"Excuse me, sir, can I help you?"

I might very well have jumped five feet into the air just now. And that mysterious, shrieking, shock-induced noise that ripped from my throat isn't exactly helping in terms of defending my honor, either.

I turn around, my pulse echoing in my ears, to face a small, slightly confused looking female. She looks up at me from under her blonde bangs with a questioning look. _Gregory, pull yourself together! _I quickly regain composure, sending her my most charming smile.

"Why, yes, actually I'm looking for something for me and my partner to use tonight," I say as nonchalantly as I can, figuring I might as well be honest. This lady works in a shop specializing in everything your loins can possibly ever desire. I assume she's not one to be uptight.

She eyes me up and down for a moment, and then shoots me a slightly weird look before smiling politely.

"Follow me, sir."

Just as she turns around, I coincidentally glance down for a moment. Hm.

No wonder she looked at me like that. I would too had I been the one having to handle a costumer with a boner.

Trying as well as I can to hide my erection I follow the small blonde as she walks out from behind the second shelf. I quickly catch up with her. My face is still warm, and there is an embarrassing silence between the two of us. She furrows her brows, and then walks over against the dressing rooms. Wait… The dressing rooms?

She walks over to the exact curtain that Cartman and Kyle disappeared behind just minutes ago. I'm almost about to yell at her to stop, but I control myself. I really want to help Kyle and Cartman, but what can I do? If I tell her exactly what's going on in there, everybody will know that I'd been eavesdropping to their little conversation. I don't want that to happen. Besides, I don't want to cause them any unnecessary embarrassment. Then again, I'm not even sure that getting caught would be enough to embarrass them.

She stops in front of the curtain. "Do you need any help in there?" She asks.

There is a slight whimpering sound, most likely from Kyle. Luckily, it's so low that you wouldn't notice it if you had no idea what was going on in there.

"No thanks, I'm good," Cartman answers. I can almost see the smirk of self-satiscfaction on his face as he says it.

The lady shrugs, and then looks at me.

"Sorry about that, sir. Right this way, please."

I breathe a deep sigh of relief as I follow her once again. I didn't even notice that I've been holding my breath.

I arrive safely back at the apartment one hour later. I head straight to the bedroom and dump the newly-bought goods on the bed, wanting to take a closer look at them.

Alright, handcuffs, check. Lube (Figured I might as well buy an extra bottle while I was at it), check. A bottle of chocolate sauce, check. I glance over at the alarm clock. One hour left. Christophe is going to be home soon, and my stomach is about to turn itself inside out.

Oh dear.

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**A/N: So, did you like it? I would really like to know what you think about this chapter, so please review! =D Thanks for reading!**


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